The Traveler's Wife
by You are my Math
Summary: An eternity: pearls, salvation, and him. On evenings, after our simplest I do's, and warm dinners, I wake up next to an empty space of our bed. AU.


**Disclaimed. AU.**

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 **The Traveler's Wife**

by: you are my math

 _I'm barely holding onto you_

. . .

 _"For better or for worse, right?"_

You said you want to see the world by yourself. A travel alone... it just goes that way, without me. But I understand, you need time—space—more growth probably to learn things beyond of what you just see shallowly. It makes sense, yes, for me, it is. And, if I were being honest, I'd tell that I admire you for your sincerity for yourself.

 _"Right..." A pause. "I do."_

I still hear the slight hesitation tangling between your voice. The cracks that tells me... you seem _unsure_. But you won't let go, and that is why I didn't let go.

We were in high school, when you told me about your love for mountains. And if my memory still serves me right, you would love to climb the top of the Mount Everest. I thought it was ridiculous, kind of stupid, actually. Until you proved it to me—your love, dedication—through your eyes. And, I've never been so captivated; the mountains, the heights—perfect setting for a swift fall of my heart.

Maybe from thereon, I should've known... that mountains are too high for me.

 _"Rubies were my favourites, but you gave me pearls." I scrutinizes, I know you dive seas to find one._

I am not one who likes to complain, after all you've told me that pearls were the precious jewel of all. It symbolises _salvation_. It was the sweetest I've heard. You are like that, right? A natural smooth talker. You always made it look like effortless. And I am too damsel to be saved again.

And, again. Forever.

On evenings after our simplest I do's, and warm dinners, I wake up next to an empty space of our bed. I figured, you haven't yet lived your dreams to the fullest, because if you were, then you'd be here waking me up against the peace of your breathing.

But no. And I don't even know how many miles separate us in between.

 _"I wish, someday, you'd write things about me."_

That was your only wish. And, the only thing that I remembered right, that was Sunday morning—when dark coffees were our usual name, and the most common of all. Your voice raspy, sounding perfectly seductive. And your mind racking onto emptiness except on my expertise in poetry and words.

I smiled because I was the first thing in the morning.

But that was before—before dreams, and road to redemptions took over you.

We are so unparalleled, only our wedding vows aren't. You have loved me. Always. You told me that while kissing the roots of my hair on my forehead. But you have things to do... without me. I let you be, because I know even though how long it'd take, you'd still go back home.

But, dear, if it for your own advantage, I'd let you know that I just started writing about us.

Us. To what it should always been— _us_.

Maybe on that Sunday morning of coffees was the farthest I have came from you since you've completely forgotten the existence of us in favor for that word, _'me'_.

And it broke me because you were my what is. And to my what will be. Yet, I stood on the line of what ifs—just what ifs, because I would never knew. I threw that very chance of knowing... for you.

Just for you.

 _"In sickness and in health,"_

That unexpected morning, I've learned something but you didn't bother to say a word. You never did. You took it all by yourself—your condition. Perhaps, failure as your wife was my name after all these years, because if I ever was not, you would've trusted me enough to let me in. To know. To figure.

To care. For you.

I didn't even know if trust will be the salvation of us. Or the pearls you've given me. I couldn't grasp to you—you traveled so far, miles away even. You could even be the sole replacement of the stars above. You've shared to me your ambitions, you told of them to me without letting me be part of it. That was not you being selfish to me, because it was _yours_ —your life, choices, goals—in the first place.

It's only possible. In reality of life, it happens. It really does, more than one could've imagined.

But the selfish thing you could've done is to hide everything from me.

I never knew that the reason you crossed seas, traveled miles away from me, was because you were diagnosed of an incurable disease. You wandered a lot, you knew that it was your purpose here in this world. You knew your fate even before you put a ring to me.

Maybe even before we cross paths in the hallways back in high school.

But I never knew. I never had a chance to.

You've made it difficult for me to love you in your best... but most especially... in your worst. But I still did.

.

.

You died... late March, two days before my birthday.

 _It was unexpected_.

You left... _again_... for the last time without letting me adjust. Things have escalated quickly, you were gone again, before the moment I knew—this time for forever. The empty space of the untangled sheets of our bed had never been occupied again. The silence that reside underneath the roof of our house had screamed the loudest in me.

Two months with your shadow was a short infinity to live in.

But it was the longest time I've had with you.

And I blamed it all to me... if only I knew.

Now, it made sense. It made perfectly sense, why you wish for me to write things about you. Why instead of, _"us"_ , you've used the word: _"me"_ —of all the subjects. You've wanted me to start it all over again without forgetting that you have existed.

That you have loved me in a different way.

A kind of way, where I had to be the one who had to endure.

Now, it also made sense why our wedding rings symbolise salvation.

Because I... had always been your saving grace.

But I have none to save me because you left before I have the chance to hold you...

Forever.

 _"Dear, till death do us part."_

.

.

"Mama!"

 _ **fin.**_

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 **A/N:** this was not intended to be a SasuSaku fiction, until I took a different route. Hence, this. Please write a review, or what. Thank you.


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